Stolen Souls
by the Goddaughter
Summary: Want to find Dimitri's SOUL? Find it in here. Click "Stolen Souls" Look into the "Find his soul" manual and follow the steps. Wait, there are no steps. Except for just this one: READ.
1. One

_I stared, and stared until my eyes started to water. __It was a horrific sight. There were bodies everywhere. It wasn't a sight an eighteen year old needed nor wanted to see, though I wasn't afraid; I had been here before. Well, not literally here at this place, but I had had this dream before. I could tell it was a dream; there are these dreamy vibes that make you shiver when you're in a dream. I felt them then._

_I slowly walked up to a body and knelt down. I swept some bloody strands of dark brown hair away from the dead person's opened eyes... And gasped. Without a word, I stood up and backed away. My throat constricted, but I started to scream, "IBRAHIIIIIIIIIIIIM!!!!!!"_

*

My mother shook me awake, soothing me, telling me it was alright, over and over again. I sat up, a mixture of salty sweat and tears running down my face. I felt an asthma attack approaching and groped for my puffer on my bedside table. My mother handed it to me, saying, "It's alright, just a bad dream. It's alright..."

I breathed in and out deeply for a few moments until I could talk and said, "It... It was that bad, bad nightmare again. The one... The one with the bodies."

"Just a dream," she repeated.

"Except this time it was worse. There were more bodies. Many more, and they were much more violently mutilated," I realized.

"Seems too detailed to be a dream." A deep voice called out from the corridor outside my room. My father entered the room soon after, holding a coffee and looking very much awake.

"Oh, God, did I wake you up, dad? I'm so sorry." Usually he was a deep sleeper and today was a Saturday.

"No, no. I set my alarm two minutes before you screamed," he told me as if my screams were an everyday thing. They probably were getting that frequent now.

"Three o'clock in the morning, hon?" My mother questioned. Then she noticed his full gear, with snow boots added on. "Where are you off to?" She added, blocking the doorway in a slanted position, shoulder leaning on the frame.

My father grinned.

"Thomas Robert Hathaway! Answer my question or I will drink your coffee!" My mother demanded.

"Have to go hunting, Lucinda Eleanor Fraser-Hathaway." My father finally admitted.

"Hunting! Wha... Who said you are going hunting at three a. m.?" she exclaimed.

"What're you hunting, dad?" I butted in. It wasn't unusual he had to leave early in the morning; he was a patrol police officer for our local area, but hunting?

"Wolves in the Silvan County Woods, apparently. Some complaints in the neighbourhood such as loud howling at night, stolen chickens and poultry, two injured guard dogs, a missing three year old girl, broken fences, etcetera," he recited as he ticked them off on his fingers.

"A missing todler? Were these in the papers? I haven't noticed." My mother said suspiciously.

"Didn't want it on, and that's all I can tell you, since the rest is private and confidential..." He paused and glanced at his watch. "Hmm. I'm late already. Well then," he adjusted his hunting gun strap, "I shall see you later, girls."

And with that, he trudged off to hunt these 'wolves'.

* * *

I'm sorry. I probably didn't explain or elaborate on any of that, but hope it's okay. Answers will come in then next few chapters.

See ya!


	2. Two

Um. Hi! It took me a long time to figure out how to make a new chapter. And another long time for how to actually write in the new chapter. Here it is. Oh and sorry that I did something with it ... and it turned out weird. But here's the unweird one.

* * *

"You know, mum, I never knew dad hunted." I said softly, braving the dizzy aftermath of my nightmare and thinking about my father at the same time. It was 3:47(am). "And I thought there were nice animals in the woods."

"Wolves can be nice," my mother reasoned.

I could see the gears working in her head, thinking of calm things to tell me. I could tell we both remembered the time around ten years ago, when there was a wolf attack at Silvan County Primary. I was eight at that time; in year three.

*Memory*

"...And who knows what the answer is?" Miss Mariesson said nicely, looking around. She ignored my persistent hand and pointed to Katie and called her name. Katie was a weird little girl, no offence; she was always quiet and never volunteered for anything. She was small and pale and had short blonde hair and hazel coloured eyes.

The teacher sighed when she received no answer except a pair of silent, staring eyes. She turned to me and gave in. "Yes, Jenny?" she said, using my nickname. I remembered I never liked being called with my real name. Whenever the teacher used to call me that, the boys in the back corner would say, "Ninny, Ninny!"

I was about to answer the question, when suddenly, the bell rang. Everyone flinched because it wasn't the normal bell; it was the emergency bell in the pattern of 'lockdown.' Miss Mariesson started, recovered, and said in a calm voice, "Don't panic, boys and girls. Now remember what we have to do in a lockdown?" she paused when she heard a faint static noise from the intercom (connected to every class room to the office.)

Nothing came through so she continued. "Table Batman and Table PowaPuff1 Girls - please close and lock all the windows and close the curtains. Table Superman, you can turn off the lights and fans. Table ResQ Racers, please put up all the chairs; Table Army, could you help with that as well." I detected a sort of panic in her tone of voice and I figured maybe this was a real lockdown.

"When you have finished, we will all -- Be sensible, Jethro! When you have finished," she repeated, "come and we'll go to the backroom. Quietly, please children."

Seeing Katie standing still in the middle of the room amidst the rush, I had to only hesitate to go up to her and take her hand. "C'mon Katie." Her hand was really warm against mine, I thought as I led her to the backroom.

The backroom was a dark and stuffy room for naughty kids. In two minutes, all 29 kids were in the "hideout," as Manly liked to call it. Peter was away, so when Miss Mariesson called the roll in the dark, we all chanted, "Away," at his name. After about a few minutes of whispers about what could have been going on, Kanya screamed that there was an ant in the room. Everyone went hysterical and it took a long time for peace and quiet to come along.

With all the silence, all of us jumped when then intercom blasted and Mrs Collard's strict office-lady voice came on, tense and fearful.

"Sabrina Mariesson, teacher of 3M?"

Some of the kids, Jonny and Manly probably, shouted, "Yeah, that's us!"

"Yes. Is everyone alright up there, Temara?"

"Wolves, Sabrina. A wolf attack."

There was some rustling and a loud bang.

"Sabrina?"

Miss Mariesson pushed through the kids and spoke into the intercom. "How can I help? Is there anything I can do?"

"You're not the only teacher to say that," Mrs Collard said, sounding hurried. "Just -"

Another bang. This one was more audible and it sounded a bit like a gunshot. "Just stay with the kids."

"Of course."

* * *

1 Powapuff (Powa because I can't copy Power; it has this Registered and Trademark thingy)


	3. Three

Going well. You can sort of guess what will happen when you start reading...

* * *

Miss Mariesson left the intercom on, incase anyone tried to signal us. There were a few more snaps and crackles (and pops) and bangs, but all at once, everything was silent. And the noises gradually started again.

I looked around me; four or five of my classmates were lying on the beanbags seemingly falling asleep. I recalled I was naughty once, for not rubbing out my drawings on the blackboard at lunch; I was sent to the backroom and I decided that the beanbags were too luxurious for naughty people... Two girls, Ylaina and Missy, were playing with each other's hair. Randolph, Drew and Travis were competing with Yugioh or stuff like that.

I glanced at Miss Mariesson. She was scribbling furiously into a tiny notebook. I soon got bored of her distracted hand movements and turned to my left. I found Katie, silent as usual, but staring wide-eyed at her palms.

I wondered what to do. Should I go and ask her "what's wrong?"

"Katie?"

No response.

"Katie?" I repeated, louder. I waved my hand in front of her eyes.

Slowly, she blinked. And blinked again. She turned to me.

"What's wrong, Katie?"

"M... My h... hands. They... They're red," she whispered.

I looked at her hands and recoiled in shock. Her hands were a glowing purplish red as if they were burning in a flameless fire.

"Oh! We... we should go and wash your hands! What on earth happened?"

Katie didn't answer.

I rushed to get Miss Mariesson and she was still writing in her book. I tapped her on the shoulder timidly and asked her whether we could go to the toilet. She checked with Mr Pierce (whose classroom was closest to the toilet blocks) through the intercom and received a "coast clear." Miss Mariesson said she would accompany us to the toilets and she made sure all the children were safe and occupied.

We went outside and she locked the doors. Just as we were out in the playground, Miss Mariesson exclaimed, "I forgot the wards!" She ushered us back and we waited for her to do whatever she forgot to do. I saw her disappear and come back from behind the brick wall that led to our classroom. I peered at her curiously, but in a second, she was back and we journeyed to the toilets.

We were just about halfway there when I heard a scary noise behind us. I pulled Miss Mariesson's sleeve and said, "Miss, I think I heard a noise."

She immediately looked around, alert and suspicious. I heard another sound, louder, clearer, but not clear enough to be identified. I was sure all of us heard that one. My teacher started to walk a little faster to the toilets and shooed us into the entrance of "ladies." She stood solidly at the entrance in front of the rubbish bin like a bodyguard.

I entered the toilets and caught sight of Katie rubbing her hands vigorously under a small stream of tap water. It wasn't working. She dried her hands on her jumper and looked at me.

"I need to pee." She whimpered urgently.

Uh... I helped her look for a cubicle that actually had toilet paper and said, "Here, this one has tissues in it. Are your hands okay?"

Again, she kept quiet and went into the toilet.

Then I heard a scream.

It wasn't Katie. It was a loud, adulty scream. It was Miss Mariesson. I heard a growl as well and some gunshots and snaps. I wanted to go out to see what was going on, but I felt that the safest idea was to stay inside the toilets and help Katie.

"Katie?" I whispered.

"I'm almost done," she said, her voice muffled. I guessed she was feeling less shy around me now.

"We have to stay in here. I think there are wolves outside." I told her as she washed her bright red hands once more.

She gave me a look that suggested she was scared but was not going to show it and she flinged the droplets off her fingers. Slowly and quietly, she sneaked to the entrance/exit and peeped out.

"Katie!" I almost screamed. I pulled the back of her jumper, but she didn't get my point. She stepped outside.

Now I did scream. "KATIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!" I ran outside and almost tripped over the rubbish bin planted on the pavement.

And stopped running abruptly.

There was the wolf. Two wolves, actually; tearing my teacher apart. The two old trees and the big wooden flag pole was on fire. A strange, purple-red fire. There was Mr Cheed and Mr Calib, gun poised towards the wolves. Katie was standing a few steps in front of me, tense.

And the wolves were on fire.


	4. Four

Hello everyone! I don't know why people always ask for reviews and threaten them that if they don't get more reviews, then they won't post a new chapter... But here is my first review threat: If I don't get at least five people (different people, obviously) to review (right now I think I have two or three), then I won't post the next chapter. It probably won't work, since my story isn't exciting, but I probably won't remember my threat so I'd probably post it even if I get no reviews... Oh well! Here goes. I'm just improvising for this chapter. Oh and sorry if you get confused about the paragraphs. I didn't want to waste the space. If at about half way, you don't know where it's going, then sorry!! Oh and this chapter contains a two-sentence spoiler for transformers 2.

* * *

Breakfast. Bacon and eggs. Milk. Juice. Toast.  
"Mum?"  
"Yes?"  
"What time is it?"  
"Ummm..." she twisted around to see the clock. "11:19."  
" 'Kay." I poked my boiled egg. It rolled over and fell into the tomato sauce.  
"Mum?"  
"Yes?"  
"Why do I have tomato sauce for bacon and eggs?"  
"Dunno, hon. You know I cook all thisses and thats. Not that I cooked the tomato sauce. I have some, too."  
I looked her plate. "Hey, not fair! You got a fortune cookie!" I protested childishly.  
"You could get one too!"  
I extended my hand.  
"Get it yourself, lazybums." she laughed.  
"Ugh..." I peeled myself off the chair to get a cookie from the cabinet. It was hardly morning, well it was morning, and already the temperature was twenty something degrees - and to think my father went out with snow gear!  
I looked throught the cupboard and found the bag of cookies. I reached in and took one out. I closed the door and on my way back to the dining table, I cracked it open. A tiny piece of paper drifted out, following the breeze. I grabbed it before it could run away and smoothed it out onto the table.  
"That was for dessert, Jenny!" My mother scolded.  
"Mu-um..." I was eighteen and my mother just lectured me about dessert and meals (not really.)  
A pause.  
"Well? What does it say?" she said, picking up her own one.  
"It says, 'Good luck with cleaning up today.'" I read.  
My mother chuckled. "Hey!" I punched her lightly on the arm.  
She opened hers. I ran up behind her chair and read it over her shoulder.  
The paper said, "Did you say goodbye?"  
She stood up abruptly and not only did she give me a sore knee cap from the backing of her chair, the top of her head hit my bottom jaw and I bit my tongue.  
"Ow!"  
"Sorry, hon. You okay?" She looked at me with concern in her eyes.  
I was rubbing my knee and trying to blow on my tongue (it didn't work) at the same time. "Ythleah," I managed. She sat down as abruptly as she stood up.  
I sat back down as well and suddenly remembered my movie date with Ib. I had half an hour to get changed and drive into city. I stuffed a large piece of bacon in my mouth, chewed it about three times and washed it down with a gulp of milk. I did the same with the whole egg.  
"Slow down, love, what's with you?"  
"I'm late for my date." I almost choked on a jagged piece of cookie and gushed all the food down with a final scoff of the milk. I patted my satisfied stomach and grimaced as I felt the trail of food slide down my oesophagus.  
I recalled a fact I learnt a few years ago in science, apparently your throat had these muscles where they consecutively squeeze the food down, top to bottom. I could almost feel that right then.  
I rushed to put the things in the dishwasher. However, as I lifted my plate and hurried towards the kitchen, my thumb slipped right in the tomato sauce and _crash!_ came the plate.  
"Woah! I'll go get the dusters!" My mother said as she caught sight of the shards.  
"Mum... I'm so sorry!"  
"That's alright," she said, reappearing with the scoop. "A lot of things happened to me when I forgot some dates with your dad."  
I couldn't imagine. You know when you see your parents get all mushy, you sometimes wonder what would've happened (or what wouldn't have happened) if they hadn't met...  
"Thanks mum." I said, with meanings more than one. I picked up a remaining piece of ceramics and flicked it into the bin.  
"Do you think that was the fortune cookie's work?"  
I had forgotten about it. "Good luck in cleaning up today," I recited. "Dunno, but I'm glad the cleaning's over!"

*Precisely half an hour later*

I spotted Ib not far away from the cinemas, and waved at him. He soon saw my hand and made his way towards me. The place was really crowded on Saturdays.  
"Hey. Awesome." He looked me up and down, and seemed impressed by my red and grey knee-length dress. "You look great! I see you're making use of the necklace I gave you."  
"You look great, too," I joked, though it wasn't really a joke. I fiddled with the sword shaped charm on my necklace. He always looked great, especially cute when he cries at the end of movies. That's why I loved going to the movies with him to watch sad, romantic movies.  
"So... What were we going to watch again?" He asked, his hand protectively draped over my shoulder; swerving me towards the entrance of the cinema.  
"Have you watched the first Transformers movie?"  
"Oh yeah, it was awesome. Spielberg is so great."  
"Wanna watch the second one?"  
"Sure." We sauntered to the ticket place and bought two tickets for Transformers 2. When we got into the dark theatre, the trailers had already started, so I quickly switched off my phone after noticing the time was 12 noon.

At parts of intensity and hope of the movie, I would grasp Ib's arm as tightly as I could. I wondered if I hurt him. And then came the part where Sam "died." The atmosphere was so intense, I closed my eyes and when I opened them to look at Ib, he was looking at me. Staring. Love filled his eyes. I couldn't bother watching the movie (even though it was at the best part); my boyfriend was about to give me my first kiss!

It didn't happen. Ib's phone started ringing; he went outside; I started watching the movie again, wondering how Sam was alive again. I heard a noise in reality and saw Ib, rushing to me. I stood up, grabbed my handbag and excused myself as I squeezed out of my row. When we were outside, I saw the worry in his eyes.

I knew something terrible had happened, but I was not prepared for the explanation.

"It's your mum, Jen. Your house has been broken in, and she's been attacked. She... she tried to call you... She couldn't, so she called me - she knew you were with me..."  
"I... She... Is she okay? Of course she's okay, she's your mum, stupid." I told myself. "Right?"  
"Her voice was... hoarse, but she hung up when the ambulance came. She... She told me to tell you she... she loves you... And she told me to take care of you."  
I started shivering, then shaking, and just could not stop. Ib made as if to hug me, but I ran out of his embrace and to the car park. I had to get home. When I reached my car, I just couldn't do anything. Ib had chased me and carried me into the front passanger seat. He started driving me home, that man. Oh, he was a lifesaver.  
In 20 minutes of silence, we were there. There. Home. The outside was beautiful as it always was; I stepped inside. Everything was a mess. With an occasional trace of still-red blood, the sight was accompanied by broken vases, broken thisses and thats. Thisses and thats. My mother's favourite phrase. Some policemen came in and saw us. Ib went up to talk to them. I couldn't hear any of it. I saw one of the men wave a roll of CRIME SCENE. DO NOT CROSS tape around, gesturing for us to leave.

I looked around once more before Ib came up to lead me away.

I had a lot of cleaning up to do.


	5. Five

Sorry for the few years that I didn't write. Months, actually... I was worried that the account would delete itself if we didn't write in it often. But thankfully it didn't. I found a funny error in my chap 3. It was 3.47 and after a short while (breakfast) and 30 mins, Janine had a movie date with Ib. At five in the morning!!! I don't think it was noticed, though.

* * *

Ib was accompanying me back to my car and where he was going to drive me I had no idea. His appartment, perhaps. An officer came up to us, a different man, more casual in attire and speech. A detective.

"You... are Thomas' daughter? Hathaway?" He looked me up and down.

I nodded.

He whipped out a notepad and a pencil. "Do you have any idea where your father may be? Your mother's gone to the hospital, no worries. Your father?"

I coughed and the sentence caught in my throat. I swallowed and said uncertainly, "He went hunting, um, wolves... at around three this morning."

"With whom?"

"The police?" I had meant it as a question.

He considered this and shook his head roughly. "No ma'm. No pols went to hunt this morning." He sounded 'hunt' with a tone of doubt. "He said this? Last night?"

"This morning. I woke at three and he was going out." It seemed weird, so I added, "I had a nightmare so I woke at three..."

He sniffed and twitched his nose like any detective would. "He went alone, then."

Ib raised his eyebrows. "Did he go to the woods, Jen?" I nodded.

The detective recorded this and flipped to the next page. He wrote something else. He paused for a moment and, handing the notepad and pencil to me, he said, "I won't keep you any longer. You've got a place to go?" He eyed Ib. "I'll keep in contact with any news."

I looked at the notepad and wrote down my number and Ib's after the scribbled, '_mobile_:'

* * *  
Ib and I entered the lift to his level. I sort of broke down then and Ib sort of carried me back to his appartment. There, I sort of fell asleep on his sofa that felt oh-so familiar, but uncomfortable because it wasn't home. I sort of had that dream again and it was sort of different. I couldn't remember it once I woke up. However, when I sort of woke up, I sort of recalled what had happened before I sort of broke down in the lift (where I sort of thought all the sort ofs started) and I sort of screamed.

Ib came in carrying a steaming plate of something that I sort of make out as eggs on toast. I sort of kept on screaming and he sort of clamped his palm over my lips to silence me. I sort of shut up then, and sort of calmed down.

We sort of ate in silence - the radio was on with music. At one point, Ib sort of moved closer together so that he was sort of huddling next to me and that we were sort of really close together. I sort of liked that. Then that spell was sort of broken and I sort of remembered why I was screaming (because my parents were both (sort of) in a state of unknown.) So then, I sort of started screaming again, but it sort of wasn't screaming because it was sort of husky and pitchless. It was sort of just a lengthened croak of some sort.

Anyway, after the lunch, the sort ofs lessened, and my actions became more definite and confident. Ib rang the hospital to check if a "Lucinda Eleanor Fraser-Hathaway" had been admitted, and whether her relatives were allowed to visit. We were.

The visit was hazy in my memory. It happened in a semi-sort-of timeline. Only the major things stuck in my mind. The rest floated off. Ib was able to fill in some of the minor blanks when we talked about it a while later, but it didn't really do anything.

We drove for 20 minutes.

We were ushered in to the ward.

**Beepb.**

Her face was disgusting.

**Beepb.**

She was covered in bandages and needles and patches and she was on drips.

**Beepb.**

She had a slow pulse. It was constant.

**Beepb.**

A nurse came in.

**Beepb**.

...

**Beepb**.

The nurse took notes and left.

**Beepb**.

Silence.

**Beepb**.

"Do you want to stay any longer?" That was Ib.

**Beepb**.

Apparantly I nodded.

**Beepb**.

I walk closer.

**Beepb**.

She is asleep. Or her eyes were closed.

**Beepb**.

I meant her eye.

**Beepb**.

I only saw one.

**Beepb**.

I got angry at the constant beeping, not that I wanted it to stop or anything, but I wanted to talk to my mum. To know she was safe and fine and still her own self. And who attacked her.

**Beepb**.

I thought it was the wolves who made her like this.

**Beepb**.

**Beepb**.

**Beepb**.

We went out of the ward. Me and Ib.

**Beepb**.

**Bepb**.

**Bipb**.

Bip.

Bp.

B.

It faded as I went.

I almost for forgot it was only because I was walking away, not that my mother was dying.

b.

* * *

I hope it wasn't boring. It was a little boring when I typed it. Probably because of all the repeated stuff like beep or sort of, etc.


	6. Six

Oh no! My chapter 6 disappeared so I have to write it all again! Oh, by the way, the dead(ish) guy in the dream of the first chapter was meant to have blonde hair. You know the guy that 18-yr-old Janine had "swept bloody strands of hair away?" It's not dark brown, it's blonde. Sorry.

* * *

I lived with Ib, for the next few days, eating take away, or cup noodles. Sometimes I'd drink myself to death, thinking about my parents. On nights like these, the only thing I'd remember the next morning was Ib telling me not to drink as I flicked the cans/bottles open. He'd take a sip, and try to lure me into eating chocolate instead, but that was as far as he'd go. I'd get hungover, and in the mornings, I'd ask Ib what happened last night. There were usually two answers: "Nothing much. We watched TV. You fell asleep. I washed the dishes..." or, in a more childish and wicked voice, "Hm! Well, um, ah, you know, we... didn't do anything."

And I'd believe him.

Everyday, I'd also visit my mum and the police station, checking if she'd gotten any better and whether news of my dad had arrived. Both results were always 'NO'. Always. It twisted my brain.

After a while of visiting, about one and a half weeks, I went less often, because the more my mother was in a coma, the less I worried about her, for some reason. I guess more of my worry went to my father. He'd been gone for a while now. Which was why I decided, one day, to snap out of it, and find him. I wasn't scared of wolves.

And I told Ib that. Of course, he had objected, telling me sternly that I shouldn't go anywhere. Telling me he knew I was distressed and that he knew how I felt. I got angered at that, I guess.

"How on earth should you have any idea how I feel? Any? Idea?"

"Jen, you know I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. I just-"

"Oh, so this is about you, is it?" I immediately wished I hadn't said that. It didn't even make sense in this context!

His face was shadowed with hurt. "Listen, I j... I'm sorry. I- Listen to me, Jen, I don't want you to go. I don't want the police to have to put you on the missing persons list, too."

I could have cried. I could have sobbed in his arms. What did I do instead?

"That's so sweet." I said bitterly, cutting all attempts of forgiving. There were traces of venom in my tone. It just wasn't me. I was having mood swings. I didn't want to involve him.

"I'm going tomorrow."

He didn't try to stop me any more, except for the next morning, as he stood barring the doorway. We had eaten our last meals together in silence; the blahing of the radio had dissolved into the hum of the refrigerator. I felt empty. He asked me one last time whether I really had to go or not.

"I'm going. I'm going, I'm leaving, I'm... I might never see you again. Are we breaking up?"

He looked up suddenly. He had been staring at his feet. His face was blank. His eyes were blank (metaphorically speaking). "Uh... Yeah." He blinked. His face went even blanker than before; it's scary. He walks away.

I left the apartment, not glancing back. I ran down the stairs, sad excitement running through my bloodstream. A sort of dull adrenaline that makes you want to keep on going, but it's always pulling you back. Ironic.

I ran out the patient and slow revolving doors. The strong winds outside tore at my hair, pushing me back. I persevered. I had to find my father. I loved him more than I loved Ib. Right?  
Right, I answered myself immediately, before I could think about it.

It was true, I decided huffily. He's my _father, _I told myself almost defensively. A tear had dawned in my left eye. I blinked it away and started towards the woods. I hiked away from town, away from the tall buildings and away from Ib. Away from the hospital, away from civilisation and safety. That part scared me.

Anyway, I only had with me a small pack which held only a few belongings.

I was naive.

And I still am.

I crossed to the other side of the 'safe' woods, where sightseeing tourists would go and explore, to the section of dark trees where the atmosphere was dark. Even though it was morning. I kept on hiking through the walking planks, the faint trails of dead grass often tread on by people. I kept on walking until I saw a sign that read:

Authorised personnel only.  
Unsafe areas.

And so,

I set off, off to find the man I love.

Well, I told you I was naive.

* * *

Sorry. Did they even have mobile phones "back then"? Less than 30 years ago, that is, if Rose's story is at present...


	7. Seven

By the way, I'm choosing to ignore Blood Promise and the someone in it called "Abe." And also the rest of the series, because Ib is Ib in my story. And somehow I remembered his name to be Ibrahim in one of the books. If someone would like to inform me about my mistake (or correctivity!), please do, as I don't have any of the books. I owe my reading to my Godfather, AKA ShadowkissedDeni.

* * *

I never did get to find him, though. Instead, I found something very different.

I found the truth. And my destiny.

The Truth:

-My mother was actually my father's second wife, and she wasn't my biological mother.  
-My father was human, but my biological mother wasn't. She was what they called, a "dhampir."  
-That made me one, too. I still don't know how it worked.

My Destiny:

-Okay, it might sound vague and ambiguous, but what I did find, was a school and I was 'destined' to become a 'guardian.'

I thought I was out of my mind (or they were out of theirs,) when this academy welcomed me in and told me they had been expecting me for so long. I'm not going to give details of my 'initiation.' I'll just skip to the part where I got my surprises.

My first surprise was my roommate.

Her name was Katie. Now, that jingled all the bells that fit into my head, that was lots, but I was sure she was not the Katie Dorricot from years ago, but another Katie. However, after a while, I wasn't so sure, and nor was she.

Katie was blonde. She was a little taller than me and skinny. She was quite pretty and she was a 'Moroi.' Her last name _was_ Dorricot, like the Katie in my class. Also, she---

"OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!" I screamed. (This was my second surprise.)

Katie stares at me, her smile on her face frozen. She recovered, saying, "Janine, are you all right?" She rushed to my side but I ran away from her, screaming. I slammed the bathroom door. It's a wonder I even found the bathroom, though I was looking for a bedroom.

After a few minutes of splashing my face with cold water, I realized that she was playing a prank on me, though it wasn't All Hallow's Eve (Halloween) yet...

I opened the door a little and peeked out. Katie was right outside. "Janine?" she ventured. "Are you okay?"

I opened the door fully and almost pulled Katie with it; she had been holding the handle. "Yeah, I'm fine. Of course! Haha." I said with force cheer, embarrassed at my outburst. "Haha, I get it. They're fake." I said to assure myself. "Haha."

Katie frowned. "What?"

I rolled my eyes. "Your teeth. You know... the um, fang things. Very funny, Katie."

A peculiar expression outgrew Katie's confused one. "Oh! That's the other thing, Janine, Moroi have fangs, and so do Strigoi, of course."

Oh my God.

Not a _REAL-LIFE _vampire? Not for real? Like Dracula???

I let this stuff sink in (get it? sink in, like fangs?) and that took a few weeks, but I won't go that fast.

So I got over the fangs, and we talked for a long while. She helped me unpack and settle, telling me all about herself, including her boyfriend, who was a 'royal' Moroi.

Boyfriend.

I had forgotten all about Ib. It was nearly two months since I left him.

**

When Katie and I finally re-confirmed ourselves to be ex-classmates, we were much more comfortable with each other. She told me how she had ended up in St Vlad's, how her fangs were delayed in their growth and her parents thought she was somehow not Moroi and sent her to 'normal' (human) school. She explained all about Strigoi and all that, which included her specializing in an element. Fire, which also explained the incident from years ago.

She seemed to read my mind as she recalled to me that day with the wolves at school.

My second surprise was a present from a lady called Syrup. Well, everyone _called_ her Syrup. She was to be my instructor, and the gift she presented to me was a 'stake.'

Like a _REAL_ stake.

Until I held it, it looked surprisingly heavy for such a small object. When I did hold it, though, it was just the opposite. I found it quite light and, much closer, quite large. It was probably the way Syrup held it.

**

Every morning at around 4:30, I pulled myself awake to do my training and wondered what new skills or techniques I was going to learn. I wondered about my mother(s), my father, and Ib.

Syrup was very friendly at first, taking time to correct me when my head was held too low or high, when my back was too bent or arched, when my stake was held the wrong way or in the wrong position.

When the training got harder, however, she started using a harsher voice and language.

After training, there'd be breakfast, where I'd be wearing fresh attire and where I'd line up behind Katie to get food.

I found it very suspicious when on Mondays and occasionally Fridays she wasn't in the line. When I confronted her on one Monday, about it, she laughed, showing her fangs.

She dragged me to a foul-smelling room. My eyes widened.

There were lots of Moroi just walking around, some were entering or exiting smaller rooms. I accompanied Katie to one of these rooms and watched in fascination and disgust as she literally bit into this guy's neck and drank his blood.

After breakfast, we'd have classes just like 'human school.' It bored me a little as I'd expected something out of the blue. Something cool and creepy.

Lunch was your typical everyday lunch, and lessons after that again. Etcetera. There'd be a few hours of free time, one of which I used to talk with Syrup about combat and fighting. Then came dinner, followed by another hour of free time, which led to lights out.

* * *

I'm just going to leave it there, sorry. Next chapter coming up soon. Please give me some insights.


	8. Eight

I'm sorry- did I say something about dark brown hair being blonde in some previous chapter? Hehe. I've changed my mind again. The guy in Janine's dream has brown hair...

Oh and - I'd like to make an announcement - sorry if it's too public, but a few days ago, on Friday, 16th April, was Godfather's (ShadowkissedDeni) little brother's first birthday. Congratulations!!

* * *

On one particular morning, I woke at 3:56 am, feeling very peculiar and sick. This was, say two and a half months since I was self-enrolled into the academy.

(Nothing too memorable had happened between then and before - Christmas was not widely celebrated, and I was stuck in the academy for the holidays since no one came to claim me and I was too "new" to go out by myself.)

I had a vomiting fit, which woke Katie in the next room up. When I had finished hurling up whatever I had consumed the week before, it was around 4:30. Katie advised me to visit the academy doctor, whom I never even knew existed. I didn't go to see him; my excuse to the pleading Katie was that I was feeling better already and besides, I could at least be earlier than Syrup to training once in a lifetime.

I entered the training gym feeling nauseous. It passed, though, when I held on to the wall.

However, the nausea came back, and proof of my lie to Katie was evident when Syrup came in to find my hyperventilating on the gym's lino floor almost unconscious. I fainted.

I got to meet the doctor after all, was my first thought when I opened my leaded eyes groggily. My second thought was, "What's wrong with me?" I voiced this thought and the doctor's reply was strong and clear, unlike my own, creaky whisper. "You are with child," the doctor said with those 78% sure voices they have. "Huh?" I said uncomprehendingly. Someone handed me a glass of water. I sipped some, saying thanks, and then said, "Huh," again, but this time more definite. As if I was agreeing with him, but doubting myself. Like, Huh! Yeah Right!

"With child, eh? Well, what am I supposed to do now?" I asked him, still in my weird state. And then, when I got more sense into my head, I murmured, "When's he due?"

"You're about four months in, Janine. He's due in about less than half a year - May? I'd say mid-May." Was the reply. The doctor added as an afterthough, "Or she."

"Four months!" I exclaimed. I rubbed my tummy, which felt very normal, but all of the sudden very different. There was something in there... and that something was _alive_.

How creepy.

"Yes, some people have rather small tummies."

Suddenly, I fully realized what this meant. This meant I was pregnant. I was with child. I was a potential mum. Mum. Dad. Dad?! Sometimes, reality is like a slap in the face.

I winced, as if I had been slapped in the face.

"Nothing wrong with that," the doctor said, thinking I was wincing about my small tummy.

"That's not it," I whispered. "It's Ib. He's the dad. My god." I buried my head in my hands and curled up, not knowing anything else to do. This was my uh-oh-Janine's-in-an-unknown-mood-uh-oh-what-now-...-I'm-about-to-cry-but-am-too-proud-to-do-so,-so-I'll-just-curl-up-like-this position. I could feel the doctor was about to ask me something, but he knew better than to interview me at that moment. He went out of the room.

***

When I woke up from my sleep, it was dark outside. I got slapped in the face again, but this time with memory. Funny to find similarities between memories and reality...

The first memory was of a particular day in my search for Thomas. (My dad.) I was making a small camp, since it wasn't too cold, and I came across a muesli bar wrapping. Now that was something. There weren't any other clues as to where it came from, who put it there, where this who went... But it was still something. It was half finished. I was also feeling pretty hungry, though I had devoured my daily ration, so I ate it. The next morning and a few mornings after that I had a fit just like the morning sickness I experienced, but I thought nothing of it since it went away.

The second memory was of Katie. She found out she was pregnant with a boy (immediately named Andre (after a 'very important relative'))by Katie's boyfriend, whom Katie planned to marry in a year, so that it didn't disrupt her studies. This occurred a month in our friendship, and I was very happy for her, though she threw a few tantrums at me. When she told me, she abruptly started crying and said, "But I'm so young!" Well, yes, she was very young - 19, but I guessed she was secretly happy about it, too.

And when I woke up, I felt very young. Horribly young, and vulnerable. I felt as if I had no one, no one to rely on, my parents were next to dead, and my boyfriend was next to non-existence. I hadn't even given more than a few thoughts for him during my stay at the Academy. Besides, he's my ex-boyfriend...

I found Katie in the seat next to me, reading a book which was rested on her very big tummy. She looked up. "Hey, Janine," she said quietly. "Feeling better?"

"I guess," I smiled.

The doctor entered, smiling at me. Katie stood up to give him some space. "So, you're all better now, I see. Are you aching anywhere? Feeling uncomfortable anywhere?"

"Er, no," I answered as truthfully as I could. I did have a tiny headache, but it wasn't hurting much. I sat up.

"No need to take aspirin?" He held up a packet and gestured to the glass of water sitting on the table next to the bed. I shook my head, no. I reached over for the water and took a sip, feeling the cool comfort of water trickling down my throat. All of the sudden, I wanted to see my mum, my dad, to make sure they're safe, they're still alive. And to tell them everything, ask them everything. Did my dad know I was a half-vampire?

Suddenly - another thought - did Ib know?

No, of course not. Why should he? _How_ should he?

And suddenly - a funny thought. Was Ib a vampire, too?! I started to laugh, and Katie did, too, probably out of relief that I was fine. The doctor looked at us for a moment and slipped out of the room.

Several questions and thoughts that invaded my mind were:

How was I going to tell Ib about our child?  
Where was Ib?  
Where was mum?  
Where was dad?  
Am I really going to have the baby?  
Could I abort it?  
Will it be a vampire?  
What am I going to do when I can't train to be a Guardian? I had already missed out two of the most important years, even though I had learnt so much already and caught up pretty quickly.

There were so many other things I was thinking of... But one stood out from the rest; WHAT HAVE I DONE????

* * *

Author's note: Hello, readers! Or hello, thin air! I'd like you to please review and tell me which story (so far), Find and Kill, starring Rose and Ryan, or Stolen Souls, starring Janine, you like better, because I'm going to continue on with one until I finish it... And then do the other - because I am officially confusing myself!!! So if you could just review and say Find and Kill, or Stolen Souls or I don't really care (I hope you don't say that), then I can concentrate on one.  
And sorry it's going so slowly. P.S. If you didn't know, I have two stories. (I'm going to post this message/note in my other story, too.)

:) The Goddaughter


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